


we must take care of our families (wherever we find them)

by kayteedancer



Series: November Challenge [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, so AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-31 01:29:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12665484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayteedancer/pseuds/kayteedancer
Summary: “You can’t be serious, Claudia,” Officer Noah Stilinski sighed, shifting his son carefully from one shoulder to the other.  “We are not going to put Loki, Norse God of Mischief, down as our baby boy’s godfather.  We can just leave it blank – ““Come on, Noah,” she whined.  “What’s it going to hurt?  It’s not like Loki is real or anything!  Besides, it’ll be hilarious!  And our son will definitely have the coolest godparent ever.”





	we must take care of our families (wherever we find them)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there everyone! Here's my addition for Day 7! I know it's a little bit late (again), but I'm doing my best to keep up with one piece a day. I promise!
> 
> The prompt for today's installment is: "For lack of better candidates, someone’s parents jokingly named the Norse God Loki as the child’s godfather. He decides to take this seriously." I got such Stiles & Loki vibes I could hardly handle myself, so I continued my trend of crossovers with this one.
> 
> Thank you so, so much to everyone that has been reading and commenting and leaving kudos! I can't repeat this enough: you all are amazing and you have been lights in my life as I keep moving through this challenge. It means the world to me, so thank you <3
> 
> As always, feel free to drop a line over on my tumblr (sleepeatdancedream) and just say hi or even leave me a prompt if you want! I would love to hear from you all.
> 
> Thank you so much again to everyone! I hope you enjoy this installment in my November challenge!
> 
> Title is a quote by Elizabeth Gilbert.

“You can’t be serious, Claudia,” Officer Noah Stilinski sighed, shifting his son carefully from one shoulder to the other.  “We are not going to put Loki, Norse God of Mischief, down as our baby boy’s godfather.  We can just leave it blank –"

“No, Noah!  I will not leave it blank, especially when we put Natalie as the godmother,” Claudia snapped at her husband, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes with a pout.  Noah simply looked at her, unfazed.

“Come on, Noah,” she whined, trying another tactic.  “What’s it going to hurt?  It’s not like Loki is real or anything!  Besides, it’ll be hilarious!  And our son will definitely have the coolest godparents  _ever._ ”

Noah looked uncertain, starting to pace as he rubbed a hand softly over his son’s back.  “Claudia…”

Claudia dropped her smile from her face, turning her head slightly.  Forcing tears to her eyes, she sniffed.  “Fine, Noah.  We just won’t do it.  It was a stupid idea; I was stupid to suggest it.”

Panic suffusing his features, Noah came to Claudia’s side and reached out to grab her hand in his.  “No no, Claudia.  If it means that much to you… And you’re right.  It’s not like it’s going to hurt our son to have a real _godly_ godparent on his side.”

Claudia valiantly fought down a triumphant grin and pressed her eyes shut so a single tear rolled down her cheek, turning back to face Noah full on.  “Really?  Thank you, Noah, it means a lot to me.”

Noah nodded bemusedly and watched as Claudia finally lost control of her laughter, shaking his head with a fond smile on his face.

Just then, the nurse came in with paperwork for their baby son.  “Mr. and Mrs. Stilinski, I have the paperwork for your baby boy here.  Have you decided on a name yet?”

Claudia was still wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, her smile bright enough to power the entirety of Beacon Hills.  He couldn’t believe she was his wife sometimes, let alone the mother of his child.  She was so full of life, full of joy, full of  _mischief_ …

Noah felt a chill run down his spine and he clutched his son tighter to him. “Mieczysław,” Noah announced suddenly, a sense of rightness settling over him.  “Mieczysław Elias Stilinski.”

Claudia looked over at him with a curious little smile on her face.  “After my grandfather?” she repeated, her eyes softening around the edges.

Noah laughed.  “Mieczysław; our little Mischief,” he stated again and Claudia let loose another full-body laugh.

“Mischief with the God of Mischief as a godparent,” she giggled as she filled out the paperwork, passing the pen over to Noah once she’d signed it.  “Our kid’s going to be amazing.”

“He definitely will,” Noah grinned, signing his name with a flourish.  As he did, he swore he could hear laughter echo softly in the room. A glance at Claudia showed she did not hear anything; she was already gesticulating wildly at the nurse. But Noah heard laughter, he swears he did.  He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise in invisible alarm.

 – – –

Mieczysław was a happy baby, a bundle of energy, a Mini-Claudia in temperament and Noah was so grateful to have both his wife and his child bringing light to his life.  However, when their little “Mischief” began toddling about, he started actually living up to his namesake.  Suddenly, Mieczysław was into  _everything._   Every drawer was yanked on, every unprotected electrical socket had fingers or spoons going for it, every sharp object ended up in or near his son’s fingers.

But what was weirder was the pranks.  Once Mieczysław turned 5, he began pranking.  The milk would suddenly be blue or green or orange or pink, eggs would turn up with faces on them, spiders would show up drawn on the toilet paper in Sharpie, hair dye would be mixed in the shampoo and conditioner bottles.  Claudia laughed so hard she started crying when she exited the shower one day with purple hair.  She loved it so much that she kept it for  _weeks,_ letting it fade out naturally. 

But Noah had mixed feelings about it all.  He was happy that his little Mischief was happy, happy that Claudia was happy, happy that they were all healthy and happy.  But sometimes he swears that he could hear that same laugh echoing when another one of Mieczysław’s pranks came to fruition, swears that he can hear his son rambling to the air and then a deep voice answering, chuckling, conspiring.  But when Noah would walk into his son’s room, all he would find was his son with a totally fake angelic look on his face, shoving his unfinished pranks under his bed.

Noah shook it off for years until Claudia got sick.  He started drinking, couldn’t really stop, and when his wife was diagnosed with frontotemporal dementia he spiraled into a cycle of drinking until he passed out, waking up and working, patting Mieczysław on the head, shoving fast food into his mouth, rinse and repeat.  When she died… Noah doesn’t remember much of the time right after she passed away.

One night, he woke up from his drunken stupor slightly more lucid than normal.  He got up from the couch, wanting to sleep in his own bed for once and determined not to look at the empty side where his wife used to be.  As he stumbled up the stairs, Noah heard hiccupping sobs come from Mieczysław’s room and the low murmur of a male voice.  Standing still, he leaned against the wall and strained his ears to hear what was happening.

“I miss her, Uncle Loki,” Mieczysław sobbed.  “I miss my mom; I miss my dad.  I miss when we were a family.  When she was here we were a  _family_.  Why did she have to go?”

Noah slid down the wall to plop on the ground, his knees too weak to hold him.  He tilted his head back, connecting with the wall with a quiet thud as he shut his eyes.

“I know, Tygrysek,” a deep male voice rang out and Noah’s eyes flew open.  This was the same voice that laughed when Mieczysław was named, that he swore his son talked to even when he didn’t see anyone in the room other than his boy. 

“I know it hurts that she had to leave you.  I know that it hurts that your dad hasn’t been here as much.  But your mother was  _strong._ Even though she had to leave you, she is not hurting anymore.  She is in Valhalla now, exalted among heroes for her bravery.  Your father is strong too, Tygrysek.  He is going through a tough time right now, but he will not leave you.  He loves you, and so do I.  Remember that, Mieczysław.  I will never leave you.”

Noah felt tears spill down his cheeks as he heard the voice, the  _man (god?)_ , comfort  _his_  son,  _his_ Mieczysław,  _his Mischief,_ and suddenly he knew that he could not live like this anymore.  He could not let himself continue this way, could not leave his son like Claudia had to.

Noah opened his eyes to meet vibrant green ones a short distance from his own.  He reeled back sharply only to knock his head back against the wall.  “Who're you?” he slurred, trying in vain to find his feet.  “What’re you doing in m'house?”

“I am protecting my godson from _your poor decisions_ , Noah Stilinksi,” the man (god?) hissed and pressed his hands against Noah’s shoulder, making sure he didn’t rise from the floor.

“You can’t seriously b'Loki, Norse God of Mischief and Chaos.  Clau –  _She_  put tha' down as'a joke, a  _prank_.  You’re lyin',” Noah slurred loudly.

The man,  _the god_ , narrowed his eyes at the drunk widower.  “From the moment you and Claudia were in agreement that I was to be the godfather, I have been watching over your son.  The laughter you heard when you named him, that you have heard many times since?  The pranks a young child should not have been able to pull off alone?  Mieczysław talking to nothing but hearing my voice answer him?”

Loki leaned in to him, pinning Noah with bright, burning green eyes.  “I have been here since the beginning, Noah.  I have watched over Mieczysław, watched him grow, helped him get into mischief equal to his name.  And lately, I have been here for him more than even you.  According to you, I can’t exist; so the fact that I am being a better parent to Mieczysław in his time of need than his own father says something, doesn’t it?”

Noah remained silent, staring up at the Norse god as he felt guilt and shame well up within him.

“ _Be_ _Mieczysław’s parent_ , Noah Stilinski.  Crawl your way out of your bottle and  _care for him_ ,” the god growled.  “Because I will not be so lenient a second time.”

With that, Loki vanished.  Noah stared into the space the god had been and blinked slowly, his alcohol-sopped brain trying to keep up with what just happened.

“Well, shit, Claudia,” he finally said.  “You're right.  Our kid has the best godparent _ever_.”

* * *

 

 _Tygrysek:_ a Polish term of endearment.  Literally means "little tiger."


End file.
